


Donna and the Doctor

by asparagusmama, BabyKlingon



Category: Doctor Who (2005), Doctor Who (Big Finish Audio)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Surprises
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-30
Updated: 2018-05-22
Packaged: 2018-10-13 01:59:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 6,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10504089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asparagusmama/pseuds/asparagusmama, https://archiveofourown.org/users/BabyKlingon/pseuds/BabyKlingon
Summary: Sometimes the Doctor and Donna aren't fighting evil and having exhilarating adventures. Sometimes they just like to chill, to sight see, to shop, to party. But the Universe - and the Doctor - are still full of surprises!We will be adding new chapters as and when we feel inspired :)





	1. Party

It was beautiful. Donna had enjoyed the sunset, as the twin pink suns had appeared to sink beneath the ocean in a boiling riot of purples, pinks, oranges, and reds. Once it grew dark the beach party the Doctor had managed to crash began to really heat up. She was getting fed up though, as she was beginning to realise the party wasn’t entirely... heterosexual. Or hardly at all really. She was also beginning to wish for brain bleach, as she wasn’t sure she was ever going to get the sight of the Doctor twerking in-between two muscle bound semi naked men out of her head. 

Ever!

She leant again the bar and sipped her cocktail. At least they served fantastic drinks here. She buried her toes in the still warm lilac sand and sighed. Tomorrow they could go sight seeing and maybe shopping. For once it seemed like they were going to have a peaceful time.

“Hello,” said a soft feminine voice very quietly.

“Oh. Hi,” Donna smiled and looked down at the short, very skinny young lady with long, curled, pink hair and yellow skin. 

“I’m Honeybelle,” she whispered, barely audible.

“Sorry?”

“I’m... ahem... Honeybelle. Hello.”

“Donna. I’m Donna. Hi. Enjoying the party?”

“It’s noisy.”

“It’s the point, though, isn’t it?”

“Would... um... would you like to go for a walk with me. On the beach. If you don’t that’s fine. It’s just that... just...” she looked away, her yellow skin flushing pink with embarrassment.

“Are you hitting on me or asking me out on a date or what?” Donna asked gently, just for clarification.

“Well... um... I love your hair.”

“Thanks sweetheart. But sorry, I don’t do girls.”

Honeybelle burst into tears.

“Hey hey. I’m sorry but I can’t...”

“It’s not that...” in between sobs Donna pieced together a sad tale of her wife leaving her and all her friends telling her she needed to get out and get laid. But she didn’t really want to and now...

Donna put her arm around the short woman’s shoulder. “Tell you what, I’d make a terrible girlfriend, but I make a good friend. I’m a good listener. Let’s take that walk on the beach and you can tell me all about your ex wife if you like. If you’re lucky I’ll tell you about my awful almost husband. He betrayed me too, but with a giant red spider.

Honeybelle laughed awkwardly. “Really?”

“Oh yeah. I was an idiot, really. Come on, let’s take that walk.”


	2. The desperate need for brain bleach

Donna got back to their hotel suite late. As she came through the lounge she heard the Doctor moan, as if in terrible pain, before he cried out, high-pitched.

“I’m coming!” she yelled, terrified for his safety. She knew this holiday on the resort planet was too good to be true. The Doctor said nothing bad ever happened on Risa, but that was when the Doctor wasn’t on it...

Donna burst in the door to see the Doctor on his back, his hands handcuffed behind his head to the bedrail, his legs apart and thrown high over the shoulders of his companion, one of the men he’d been dancing with earlier, who was well... who was...

“Doctor!” Donna yelled. “I’m never going to get that out of my head!” She shielded her eyes with her hands and turned her head slightly.

“Donna! What the hell...?” the Doctor turned his head to glare at her. His companion stopped what he was doing to stare at Donna too.

“I thought you needed rescuing! I heard you scream!”

“Yeah! With pleasure!”

“I can see that now! If you’re sure you’re consenting to this?”

“YES!”

“Alright. I’m gonna go now...”

“I think you better. Although you’ve killed the mood somewhat.”

“Sorry!” Donna rushed out, slamming the door.

She went over to the kettle and tea making stuff, flipping the kettle on. She got one mug out, then, thinking about it, she got down two more. Within minutes the Doctor came out, thankfully wearing his trousers and a tee shirt.

“Sorry,” he said, “must have been a shock. I should have locked the door.”

“It’s alright, I’m not stupid, you Martian skinny freak. But, you know, when I called you gay those times, I didn’t mean... gay, so much as... you, know... bit...”

“I’m not Martian Donna. Really not Martian. Do I look green and scaly? Do I look like a tortoise?”

“I’m not gonna say what you looked like just then. Sorry!” She poured the boiling water on the tea bags. “Here, take him some tea. And apologise for me. Go have fun. You need it.”

“Thanks. It’s okay. You thought I needed rescuing. I’ll try to be quieter now you’re here.”

“Wait!” Donna called as he got to the door.

“What?”

“Martians are tortoises?”

“Big ones with body armour and sonic guns. Big sonic guns. Ice Warriors. Tell you what, if we go back far enough, maybe millennia before your time, we can catch them before the environmental disasters and the development of the Warrior culture. Shall we?”

“In a few days Doctor. I made a friend. She’s taking me to the natural history museum tomorrow.”

The Doctor nodded and grinned. “Fine. Fine. I’m sure I’ll find something to keep me occupied.” He winked.

“Oi Doctor! Shut up!”

She was definitely going to need brain bleach!


	3. Ponyification

“Oh yes!” the Doctor said excitedly, checking read-outs on the console. “I’ve been here before! You are so going to love it!”

“Where are we Doctor? Not early Mars as promised I take it?”

“It’s a surprise. You are so going to love it. Wait ’til you see what happens when we go out of the TARDIS door!”

“Planet of the Boyz! I told you there was one and you’d been there already!”

“No! How many times Donna... things get changed here. We’re fine here, but once out of the TARDIS door... but don’t worry, once we’re back in the TARDIS everything is back to normal!”

“What?”

“Come on, I’ll show you. Allons-y !”

Five minutes later an angry yellow Earth pony with a red mane and tail was repeatedly bucking a small tan stallion,

“We’re blinking flip ponies Doctor! A. Little. Warning. Would. Have. Been. Appreciated. We. Are. Freaking. Ponies!” Each word was punctuated with a kick.

“Woah there Nelly,” said an orange pony with a yellow mane under a cowboy hat, coming up to Donna and the Doctor. “I don’t know who you are, but here in Ponyville, we do not beat up our husbands or stallion friends.”

The shock of an actual pony, in a hat, actually talking to her, shook Donna out of her anger. It took her a moment to figure out what she had been told, but the Doctor was already answering, although he looked a bit cowed by her ferocity. She didn’t realise how powerful an Earth pony kick could be.

“Oh we’re so not married. Not even remotely,” the Doctor was replying.

“No. Never. Ever,” Donna joined in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's idea was my daughter's, BabyKlingon. She reserves the right to reuse it, tweak it, and use it as the beginning as a proper crossover fic.


	4. Flowers and Temples

“Flowers Doctor!”

“Not quite!”

“Blinking flowers!”

The Doctor looked around the market place they were in. It was a busy market day, and the stalls and streets were streaming with locals and aliens of all kinds, flora and fauna, mammal and reptile, scales or fur or coat or skin of so many colours, all jostling and shoving, laughing and chatting, busy with their shopping and sight seeing. He wasn’t sure though, if they heard Donna. He hoped they didn’t. He looked at her.

“The people are blinking flowers!” she repeated again, loudly and happily.

“No. Don’t do that!”

“What?

Some people were looking at them. But then, they were white skinned humanoids and that meant they looked a lot like the local nasties to this sector of this galaxy. But surely people could tell they weren’t peacekeepers by their clothes and demeanour and auras. Couldn’t they? “Strictly speaking the Delvinians are plants, humanoid plants.”

“Blinking! Flip! Flower! People! Doctor!”

“Don’t Donna. Just don’t. I know what it’s like. It’s like going to Barcelona on holiday and shouting about the fact that the place is full of foreigners. You’re being so... Chiswick!”

“Oi Doctor! Are you calling me a stupid chav? Oh God, you are... I am not. I am so not... Oh my God, I am... I’m being rude, aren’t I? Sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry Donna, that was uncalled for. What is a chav anyway? No, don’t answer, it doesn’t matter!”

Donna linked arms with the Doctor. “But.. flowers... plants.., whatever! It’s amazing; I didn’t know the universe could be so amazing! And those people, the ones with tentacles instead of hair, and the furry little ones, and... This is amazing! I’m staring too much aren’t I? That’s why the people are staring at me?”

A milk-white skinned humanoid without the slightest tinge of pink came up to them, “You are not peacekeepers. Red hair!” she hissed, swaying like a cat as she spoke. “Flame red hair. There is something on your back. And you. Her husband. You walk in eternity old man!”

Donna looked at the Doctor, alarmed. 

“Not today, thank you,” the Doctor said, stepping back and pulling Donna with him. “No fortune telling or witchcraft today, thank you. And also, I am not her husband. So not her husband. So you’re a tiny bit useless, aren’t you?” 

With that, he turned on his heels and pulled Donna with him, rushed away down a side street. “We are so not married. Never, ever!” Donna called over her shoulder. She turned to the Doctor, “What’s with the back...?” she stopped, he looked preoccupied and dark, deep, thoughts shadowing his brown eyes, showing the centuries of pain and experience for a moment. “Doctor, are you all right?”

The shadow vanished, and he grinned like a lunatic, “Fine! Absolutely fine! Right. Shall we fine the Pah Temple now or get something to eat? Apparently the kebabs are the best in the galaxy. In the five galaxies.”

“Let’s see the Temple, Doctor,” she said, squeezing his arm. “Unless you’re hungry?”

He grinned at her and took her hand, and they weaved through the stalls and peoples of all kinds of species and planets, heading for the red domed towers on the skyline up a steep, narrow hill path. She let herself be towed. They could window shop on the way back. For some reason, she was reminded of India. She smiled at the thought. The Doctor would call her parochial again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another slight, tiny, crossover. So tiny it's not worth tagging. This time, Farscape.


	5. Wardrobe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is more Donna and the TARDIS :)

It was one of those mornings where the Doctor was tinkering somewhere, doing something to the TARDIS to keep her going, and Donna had had enough of a lie it, she had been reading and eating a leisurely breakfast the Doctor had brought her on a tray. She was making notes as she read but now her eyes and brain hurt and she had drunk enough tea to sail a ship, so she got up.

The TARDIS was so accommodating when she was bored. She had created a gym that was often next to her bedroom, with a big screen in front of the bike and walking machines showing her favourite movies or playing her favourite music. Sometimes there was a door that opened to a steam room, other times a jacuzzi, and yet others, to the Olympic sized swimming pool.

But following all of the running they had done recently, Donna didn’t feel like a workout or swim. A new door appeared. Donna, still in her pjs and dressing gown, wandered in.

“Blinking hell!”

The room was huge and circular, with three floors against the walls; she was standing in what could be described as a round atrium full of clothes. It was amazing, she remembered the first time she went to Top Shop on Oxford Street for the first time, when she was thirteen – ‘you’re not dressing like that anymore young lady, you are a teenager and it’s about time you looked like one, scruffing about in jeans and a jumper after you Dad and Granddad like a little boy. I’ve news for you young lady, you are a young woman, not a flipping tomboy anymore’ – and remembered feeling equally dizzy and overwhelmed by the clothes and choices. But this wasn’t much of a muchness of 90s fashion, this was more like the hugest dressing up box in the universe! She had loved dressing up as a child; she hadn’t really been that much of a tomboy, just because she went to football with Dad and the allotment with Granddad.

“Thank you,” she said aloud. She was never sure it the TARDIS ever understood her, but it paid to be polite

She spent well over three hours playing dress-up – Tudor and Victorian dresses, space mini dresses in silver, catsuits and loincloths, and giant puffed sleeved long dresses with petticoats and bustles with high, ornate neck collars. It was fun. She had just tried on a corseted dress that looked more steam punk than historical when the Doctor came running in, muttering to himself. He didn’t notice her to start with, just throwing himself on the floor and opening a panel with his sonic screwdriver, for once actually using it as a screwdriver.

“Doctor! Hello!” she called, waving from the third tier.

The Doctor looked up, screwdriver in his mouth.

“What do you think?” she asked, walking down the stairs.

The Doctor said something around the sonic.

“What?”

He spat it out, “I said there you are!”

“Oh?”

“Zeus ratchet! I can’t get the Zeus plugs out. I’ve pulled out the Ganymede sockets from the console but the plugs are stuck still...”

“I don’t know what the hell you’re on about...” Donna tailed off, realising that the Doctor was having one of his mad, muttered, conversations with himself and wasn’t really aware she was there. And what was with it with the Ganymede sockets and Zeus plugs? Why not Hera sockets? Or Aphrodite, Leta, or Demeter? Or Antiope, Callisto, or Electra?

Time Lords!

Oh! 

Time Lords!

“Aha!” the Doctor lifted a pink metal box from the floor and flipped the rainbow lid open, pulling out random bits of electronic and tools. He stopped as he saw a strange looking mace, encrusted with diamonds and what looked like rubies.

“OH?” he cried out.

“What?”

“I was supposed to take this back eons ago. I rid the psychavore possession, which was causing the royal family to go bonkers. I promised to take it right back, but then I obviously got side- tracked. I did...?” 

The Doctor scanned the mace with his sonic screwdriver.

“Good good. I did! We need to take it back pronto!” 

He looked up at Donna finally. “Oh good, I see you’re dressed for their Court already!”

He leapt to his feet! “Better put the Ganymede sockets back as they are and set the coordinates! Allons-y!”

Donna sighed and rolled her eyes. She knew better than to interrupt when the Doctor was having one of his mad conversations with himself. She supposed a lesser companion would follow, whining questions about where they were going and what he meant, whereas she resisted the impulse to hit him. It was obvious, he’s promised some space court he’d rid them of possession probably centuries ago then forgot! She was going to the Court of the Steampunk, going by his approval of the clothes. She followed his slowly and sedately, which was all she could do so tightly corseted, to the console room.


	6. The Court of the Steampunk

The TARDIS had materialized in a corridor, just for a change. A long, winding corridor of white marble with cross beams in steel and window frames in bronze. Donna opened the door to see three men in ornate uniforms in black and purple, with brass buttons and gold epaulets and braiding on their frock coats and peaked caps. They carried pikestaffs but laser pistols were in shining leather holsters at their waists. Goggles over the caps and knee-high patent leather boots with silver buckles over the purple trousers with silver piping completed the look. Behind them came an imposing older woman in a huge green and orange dress wide striped dress with a boned silver corset worn on the outside, her grey hair piled on her head, her crazy backcombed beehive bun thing held in place by what looked like knitting needles with stars at the end. Donna felt suddenly underdressed in her candy-striped ball dress, despite the fact the red corset was also worn outside. Her hair hung in it’s only style, and she didn’t have a hat, like the two younger women who came rushing us to the older woman, one struggling to pick up the green train attached the shoulders of her dress.

They came to a stop by the door. The Doctor, under-dressed in his blue pinstripe suit, purple tie and white shirt, and red converses, beamed a wide smile, the type that could have people of a nervous disposition lifting their hands to protect their necks.

“Hello. I’m sorry I’ve been so long.”

“Where is the Doctor?” bellowed the older woman.

“Um. That’s me. The Doctor. Sorry. I’ve regenerated since we last met.”

“In four hours?” demanded the woman, the queen, Donna guessed.

The Doctor clutched the back of his neck and looked at his converses. “Yeah. Well, considerably longer for me. Sorry. Got lost. But I have your Mace of Power! Look!” he pulled it from behind his back and waved it about. The soldiers pointed their pikestaffs at him.

“Woah there boys!” the Doctor lowered the mace and knelt down in front of the Queen. “Your Majesty. The Mace of Power of the Royal House of Lewling-Tolk is free of evil, as promised, and returned to its rightful bearer.”

The Queen nodded to one of the soldiers, who took it from the Doctor and handed it to one of her ladies in waiting, the one with the pink top hat and red velvet dress. The queen turned her gaze onto Donna.

“And who is this, I see she dresses with respect, unlike the last young lady.”

“Donna Noble of Chiswick your Majesty,” Donna said, curtseying.

“You will stay for the Ball, Doctor, and before hand entertain us stories of your adventures while lost.” It was obvious it was an order.

“Certainly, your Majesty,” the Doctor said, rising from his knees.

The Queen turned to the other girl, the one holding her green train, and ordered, “Please entertain the Lady Donna Noble until the Ball Charlotte.”

The Doctor grinned his insane grin as Charlotte curtsied, rather embarrassingly, to Donna. “See you at the Ball. Apparently,” he said, grinning, following the Queen and her guard and lady-in-waiting down the corridor.

*

It took over an hour to put the poor, terrified, Charlotte at her ease. By which time she had been shown the glass towers, the singing trees, and the crystal maze, of the gardens on peace. Everywhere there were soldiers, builders, and labours, repairing walls and windows while armies of cleaners were mopping floors and sweeping broken glass. Donna hoped the mopping wasn’t for blood. She soon realised that there had been a battle, and many of the servants and soldiers had that slightly glazed look of the traumatised and bereaved. The Doctor usually would swan off, having defeated the monster, and left the little people to it. She suspected he had been aiming for probably more like four months after he left, not merely four hours. This might be a much-needed eye-opener for him. She also needed to ask about ‘regeneration’ and why Charlotte thought the Doctor should be blond and dressed in stripy trousers and a long frock coat (’much more suitable and so dreamy’ she had said, before blushing. That was what had finally broken the ice).

Meanwhile, there were the zeppelins and other airships tethered in the sky, attached to the glass towers, and the literal horseless carriage, a carriage that looked Victorian, with plush red velvet seats, which was pulled by a spinning gold globe rather than horses. Charlotte took her through the farms and forests and villages to the city, full of more glass towers and airships and many more carriages. The clothes were spectacular. She felt she was ticking every trope, as if she was at the biggest steampunk convention in the universe. But no, this was their culture, their technology, and their morality. For with corsets apparently went absolute monarchy and no sex before marriage. The last suited Donna just fine, she had always found the whole pressure to date and jump into bed a difficult thing to navigate. Marriage, however, she could handle, even if she had never dreamed of princess weddings as a child. No, then she preferred helping make things grow with her Granddad. He would have loved this place, all those books he read.

Charlotte told her about Peri, who had been so brave in fighting the army of possessed, who had come up with the idea that had kept them from escaping the castle and hurting the general populace, but had dressed so rudely. It was imperative, Charlotte said, that the commoners did not ever know that the Mace of Power had been possessed by an alien entity and had turned half the Royal Family and their guards and servants mad.

But the Doctor had saved them, so that was fine. The Doctor and Peri.

American, Donna realised from Charlotte’s sharp imitation. Who was an American in nothing but a leotard and shorts, apparently? And yet another person to ask the Doctor about.

Charlotte took Donna to the Royal Dress-Maker and she was fitted for a ball dress even more ornate that the one she had on, but not as showy and huge as the one with the collar and puffed sleeves from the TARDIS wardrobe room.

It was green silk and teal velvet, with three hoops and a bustle, with a velvet top hat in blue with stars on spikes coming out and a veil covering half her face, along with a midnight metal corseted waistcoat with silver buttons and chains, and large blue boots with silver buckles and eyelets. Not heeled, in fact she had not seen a woman (or man) in heels since she had been here. The dress, the owner reassured a stern Charlotte, would be finished and despatched within the hour. Through the door Donna saw women and clockwork androids bent over machines. Bloody sweatshops, the same the universe over, she was beginning to realise, the haves and the have nots, the rich lording it up on the backs of the hard-working poor. Still, the women looked happy and healthy enough, and she’d been in some offices and call centres in her time, which could be considered sweatshops of sorts.

*

Two hours later Donna was in her new dress, waiting for her escort to the Royal Ball. There was a tap on the door of the room she had been assigned and Charlotte opened the door.

“Come in my Lord,” she said.

“No, don’t do that, don’t...” it sounded like he had been saying that on and off all day, and she was about to tease the Doctor that he, was, in fact, a Lord, and Lord of Time, no less, and that it was too pretentious and self-effacing to deny it, when she saw what he was wearing.

“Oh my God!” she exclaimed. He was dressed in velvet too, midnight blue too, a frock coat which shimmered in the light, with silver buttons and watch chain, along with tight black trousers tucked into knee high boots decorated with swirls of silver stars. He had a pale blue waistcoat of brocade and a white silver cravat. On his head he wore a midnight blue top hat at a jaunty angle. His hair, flattened into a fringe over one eye, poked out. He wore white eye shadow and blue mascara and blue lipstick and he looked really uncomfortable and very unhappy.

She laughed herself sick.


	7. Martha

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of an angsty chapter for a change

“Is he alright? Really though?” Martha mused to the Doctor’s retreating back, as he stormed out of the console room once he had set the coordinates to what Martha hoped was home.

“Of course not!” Donna retorted. Martha turned to look at her, then came down the steps and sat down, next to Donna. “He never is really,” Donna went on, looking at Martha briefly before staring into space.

“Yes. But where has he gone?”

“I’ve no idea. Nor has he. He’ll just walk. But the TARDIS will look after him. She always does.”

“She?”

Donna just looked at Martha as if she were stupid. Martha ignored the glare.

“Walk where?”

“How long were you with him, Martha? The TARDIS is infinite, its own little universe. Oh, I know he prattles about sub sub basements and so on, he loves to prattle and the TARDIS loves to accommodate him I think. In her own way she looks after him so much. Maybe when you were here she hid her infinite, changing, self. But it goes on forever. He’ll walk ’til he’s tired; them sit down and sob. After that the TARDIS will move wherever he is back to the door outside.”

“Did he tell you this?”

“Oh yeah, me and that Doctor, we’re like that!” Donna snapped sarcastically, crossing over two fingers. She looked at Martha’s hurt face. “Nah! Look, I get systems, me. It’s what makes me a good temp. Oh, I know I’m not clever like you, like a doctor. If I came into your office you’d barely notice me. But systems, I get, computers, files, shelving, marketing, and the rest. Look at it and bam; I get it. The TARDIS took longer. For starters, she’s alive. She’s real.”

“Oh come on, I know it must have AI and sophisticated programming way beyond us mere mortal humans, but it’s a machine.”

“TARDISes are grown not made. And she’s here!” Donna tapped her head. “Didn’t you feel her, when you travelled with him? A little tickle at the back of your mind.”

“No. Well maybe. I mean the TARDIS translates for you, yes. Telepathic circuits.”

Donna looked at Martha, and nodded.

“Oh my God, telepathic circuits. So it – she – thinks?”

“Not in ways we understand. Or the Doctor, either. But she will look after him. She won’t let him exhaust himself too much, or starve. If only Jenny had lived,” Donna finished unhappily.

“I know.”

“Give him something to live for.”

“True,” Martha agreed sadly.

Donna and Martha sat for some time. They then spoke at the same time,

“Tell me about your -” Donna began as Martha said,

“If only Rose...”

They interrupted each other and stared, then Donna said, “I really don’t think he liked Rose like that. If you meant have kids. I don’t think Time Lords reproduce like us...”

Martha gaped.

“Didn’t you ever go into the library and read?”

“Well, yeah, books from all over the universe, and... are you reading the Gallifreyan section?”

Donna shrugged. The tapped the side of her head. “Systems. Languages. Alphabets and characters. What?” she said to Martha’s incredulous stare. “I’m only on pre-school stuff, Time Tot stuff as they are affectionately called. I just read, ‘I can watch my little sister grow!” and it’s all about a little boy getting a baby sister. Standard picture book stuff, except he has two mothers and the baby is growing on a loom and he goes with them to see her with his mums to make telepathic contact. It explains about gentle brushes of love and no telepathic shouts or chatter.”

“Oh,” Martha said flatly, although her face was one of sudden realisation.

“Oh what?”

“Just thinking of something. Someone. The Doctor and this person.”

“Who’s that then?”

Martha shook her head, “Doesn’t matter. What were you going to ask?”

“Oh? Just about your fiancé,” Donna pointed to the ring.

Martha stretched out her finger, “Oh, he’s lovely. It’s quite a long distance relationship, him working for Medicine Sans Frontiers and me for UNIT. ’Course I can’t tell him everything I do, either...”

Donna put her hands over Martha, “But he’s worth it, the times you’re together. And he notices you as a woman. Something the Doctor will never do.”

“He’s so strong and... manly. When he holds me...”

“You don’t get a paper cut?” Donna asked cheekily.

“You feel like he’s holding you, you feel... I don’t know, sexuality I suppose, like he loves me and fancies me. Hugging the Doctor is... is...”

“Yes?”

“Like hugging a girlfriend, like hugging a mate.”

“Yeah, that’s all he wants, a mate. Glad you realised.”

Martha looked at the floor and fiddled with a lose cotton on her top. “I told myself for a long time it was that he was too alien, too amazing, this big, clever, strong Time Lord, who can defeat the monsters and talk down the dictators, but... but after I saw him with the Master... after my parents and sister told me about their time on the Defiant...” Martha shuddered.

“He’s just gay Martha,” Donna said. “It changes nothing about him, he’s still all the amazing things you said. Just coz he can’t fancy you doesn’t make him less alien or powerful or clever...”

“He wasn’t powerful! He was a victim! A victim who forgave his tormentor. Forgave that monster who killed countless humans, who enslaved and tortured and maimed for fun... who tortured and... and... and raped him! Oh! What’s the use? For you, for the whole planet, the whole universe, that year never happened. But for me...”

Donna squeezed Martha’s hand. “Sounds like you’ve not forgiven him. That why you happily tricked him to come back to Earth?”

“Earth needed him. He works for UNIT. It was his duty,” Martha said numbly.

“I don’t know what happened in that year that didn’t happen, so I can’t help, but if it never happened, if people didn’t die and the Earth didn’t get conquered, then I’m guessing the Doctor won, defeated this Master, this monster, even if he forgave him.”

“But he was so, well, so like a pathetic girl beaten up by her boyfriend and saying, ‘but I love him’...”

“It takes guts to leave an abusive marriage! Real guts! Anyone can be in that situation; they’re not pathetic. My mate Shreena, she’s in a woman’s refuge with her kids, lost everything, but she still loves her husband, and her parents, who don’t want anything to do with her, but she loves her kids more, and that makes her brave. My other friend, Mandy, she moved to Scotland, her and her son, it took a lot, she has MS and loves and needs, or thought she did, her boyfriend, but he drank and she couldn’t deal with the shit anymore, the violence when he was drunk, even if it was a tiny bit, was worse than all the love and support she got most of the time. She was terrified. We hired a van and drove off in the middle of the night. She hopes everyday he’ll get help and they can get back together. So does Shreena. With him it was cannabis, he smoked so much it drove him mad...”

“Cannabis psychosis,” Martha muttered.

“There’s a name? Yeah, that then. Are you calling my mates pathetic? Or are you calling the Doctor pathetic?”

Martha held Donna’s angry gaze for a while before she looked down, “I don’t know. I’m sorry. I don’t know your friends, and obviously, I didn’t know the Doctor like I thought I did. I spent a whole year telling people how wonderful he was and yet, all the while, he was a powerless victim, forgiving and loving his abuser...” and then the tears came. Donna quickly put her arms about Martha and hugged.

“He’s both,” she whispered into Martha’s hair. “He’s both. We all are though. You told him you and your family were doing fine. And you know what, you are. You’re fine. The best.”

“I can’t help questioning and judging...”

“You did the Doctor so much good Dr Martha Jones,” Donna said, thinking of the Doctor standing there as the... spider children... died... how she know knew now how it brought to the surface all the Gallifreyan children to his mind, to his hearts... “This Master, he was a Time Lord? He survived?”

Martha nodded.

“Then he wasn’t the last, so no wonder the Doctor wanted to forgive, to not be alone...”

“He was frightened of him, but he apologised, the first time we met. I didn’t see. I never saw. Jack saw. Jack understood.

“Where is he now?”

“Dead.”

“Oh. So the Doctor is alone again?”

Martha nodded. “And now he’s lost Jenny. Will he be alright?”

“Yeah,” Donna lied. “The Doctor is always alright.”


	8. The Planet Zog

The TARDIS materialized on some crumbling stone steps over-looking an open forum, surrounded by huge buildings in red and orange sandstone, the heavy red giant sun glinting off them and adding to the boldness of the colour, the sky behind the buildings a streaked pink and mauve with purple and black heavy clouds.

“Looks like rain,” the Doctor said as he glanced over the screen.

“Yeah, but is it safe Doctor? The sky being that colour? What has that refraction? Something toxic?” Donna asked over his shoulder.

“Nope. Plenty of oxygen, a little heavy on the iron-oxide vapour, but that will just feel a bit bracing. I’ve never been here before. Shall we go?” He jumped down from the console and bounced on the soles of his feet, waiting for Donna to climb down the steps.

“Where are we?”

“The Planet Zog.”

“Seriously?”

The Doctor grabbed the back of his neck and pulled a silly face. “Well, according to the TADIS Data Bank? Are you calling the old girl a liar?”

“Never!” Donna said, and linked arms with the Doctor and opened the door. Together, they exited...

To find themselves immediately surrounded by fluffy blue and purple eight-foot, eight-tentacle/legged creatures with waving arms and long tongues. They were a very tactile species and spoke telepathically so loud and clear Donna had no problem understanding them.

~Friend Doctor~

~You return to us~

~We thank you from the bottom of our hearts~

~We can now party~

“I thought you said you’d never been here?” Donna shouted above the cuddles and tickles and licks – Yuk, they were actually licking her and the Doctor!

“I haven’t! It must be my future! My personal future!” the Doctor cried, sounding slightly panicky, in answer, as he was lifted high and carried away to much mental singing, a joyous sound compared to the sad songs of the Ood.

Donna stood for a moment; mouth wide open in shock and surprise, watching as the group of excited People of Zog carried the Doctor to their Leader and a thank you party. She began to follow, but as she crossed the forum, stallholders mentally shouted to her.

~Friend of the Doctor, try our sweets~

~Oh companion of the Doctor, beautiful silks for you to make body coverings~

~Come travelling companion of the Doctor, have some of my cakes~

~Most esteemed friend of the Doctor, look, I have beads to decorate your beautiful red head fur~

~Oh brave friend of our saviour, please have some minted lemonade~

And so Donna found herself lost among the People, the ordinary People of Zog, wishing to spoil her and give her gifts as a thank you for saving their planet from something called the Rutan. She didn’t know if she will, in the future, or as they were so different, some future companion of the Doctor was the brave one who deserved the presents. Quite frankly, she wished she was there and not her, as the People of Zog showed kindness, gratitude, said hello, goodbye, or any damn thing, by licking your face with their two-foot, slavering, slimy, WET, tongues. The presents were nice, the food and drink gorgeous, the bone-crushing fluffy hugs were okay, but all this slobber, it was like her neighbours soppy Alsatian all over again, but a thousand times wetter!

She wondered how the Doctor was getting on with the posh Zogians...


	9. Party Slobber and Back to the Same Old

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> timey whimey, wibbly wobbly stuff

Eventually, Donna was lifted high, all her gifts in her arms, and carried over the heads of the crowds of the giant fluffy blue and purple creatures, rippling over them, rather like surfing their backs, gently moved and kept safe by their many tentacles and their trunk like appendage on their faces. She could see to her left the TARDIS, on its back, rippling along in what she supposed was a similar manner. Their happy singing filled her head, so different to the sad song of the Ood, yet exactly the same, the feeling of the singing, not the hearing.

She was put down in front of a long podium that stood in front of a large, crystal palace. Three blue Zogians in many silver and gold ribbons and sashes plaited into their fur, one with a crystal crowd atop it's domed head. They were leading the singing and passing out food and crystals and silk to the crowds, who instead of grabbing and keeping the royal gifts as humans probably would, were passing them the other way, back to the city market square and probably beyond, in the same way she and the TARDIS had arrived.

Among the three royals and their retinue on the podium, stood the Doctor, positively dripping in grateful, loving, slobber. As Donna's feet landed on the podium and she came to rest in front of him, she couldn't stop laughing out loud. He just smiled widely back at her.

“Hello Donna. Been well looked after I see. Think we'd better say goodbye now, what do you think?”

“If they let you!” Donna answered, grinning, clutching her presents.

Once more bows and more licks and touches of goodbye were endured, they finally got into the TARDIS. The Doctor skipped around the console, setting coordinates.

“Right. Baths. Changes of clothes. And then we're going to have to go back three Zogian months to deal with the Rutan.”

“At least we know we win, right.”

“Oh Donna, if only Time worked like that,” the Doctor replied cryptically, but had flounced past on the way to a bath before she could ask for some form of explanation.


End file.
